The sun arched over the horizon and bathed the hills in a soft, crimson orange. The roosters were late crowing, and the silence welcomed me. Draped as curtains in the distance stood the Temptation Mountains—bold, majestic, and inviting. Assassin said it would take two hours to get there, not a half day. I planned to be back by mid‑afternoon. How much of a head start did Baruch have?
I tucked the half-torn map back into my dress pocket. The well-marked road meandered easily through the hills but split into three unpaved stretches of gravel that disappeared in the mountains. I glanced around to get my bearings. The hills all looked the same. Which route would Baruch have taken?
If I went straight and took the middle road, I’d arrive sooner, though it would be a harder trek up the mountain. I made good progress for a while, but soon the climb became overwhelming. The rocky ground, barren except for a few clusters of brown weeds, was all I could see for miles, even up the mountainside. I stopped to rest on a rock beside a cactus plant. I was thirsty but wanted to save the little water I brought for later.
I longed to swim in the cool water of the king’s garden as I sweltered in the heat. The sun was high and the shadows short. Without warning, pollen splattered my face and burned my eyes.
I slid off the rock, smearing the sticky goo on my cheeks. Without a wet cloth, my feeble attempts to wipe it off made it worse. Did the pollen come from the cactus plant? I took some of the little remaining water, cupped my hands, and wiped the pollen out of my eyes as best I could.
My throat burned from dryness as I kicked up the dry sand when I walked. How many people died out here? What did I know about trekking around in a desert wilderness? The farther I went, the more I wanted to turn back. Shade was sparse when it showed up—under a few scraggly trees and large boulders.
The hard surface cracked beneath me and reminded me how stupid I was for being here. Deep empty rivulets in the gullies betrayed times of flash flooding. The occasional wind that whipped up from the south offered flashes of relief, although when the wind stopped, the air became as hot as fire. Still, I pushed ahead. I wasn’t going to leave Baruch here to die.
A short distance ahead, three vultures circled. I expected the stench of something dead and looked for an unfortunate victim, but all I saw was smoke bubbling from the hot surface. As I stared, rising vapors wiggled up from the ground in squiggly shapes.
The snaking vapors attracted the vultures that circled in the sky. I rubbed my eyes. Maybe the pollen from the cactus was causing me to hallucinate. When I quit rubbing my eyes, the vultures still circled, but the wavy, snake-like creatures were gone. The unexplained vision spooked me.
I pulled out the map. Less than a mile to go. I was making progress. I noted the different peaks around me—the one to the left had a little crook in its side. In the middle was a pointed one, like a church spire, and to the right was a round pancake top rock formation. South, the lower rambling hills picked back up again. I gathered five medium-size stones and plopped them down in the shape of an arrow, pointing back in the direction from which I’d come.
As I walked along the rocky path, the silence seemed eerily quiet. Shouldn’t there be buzzing insects or birdcalls or the scampering of lizards? I inhaled deeply but couldn’t smell anything familiar.
I pushed ahead to the top of the plateau where an unobstructed view provided a panorama from the pinnacle. A stark wilderness spread out for miles even though the map showed an apple orchard with wild honey. This confirmed my fears. Assassin had sent Baruch to his death.
I scrutinized the wasteland and caught something moving in the valley. I strained my eyes to see. Was it Baruch?
“Baruch, it’s me, Shale.” He was too far away to hear. I called to him three more times before he heard me.
“Eeeee ooorrrr!”
Did he know that Assassin had duped him? I ran down the rocky path to greet him.
The donkey’s tired eyes popped with joy. “Miss Shale, how did you find me here?”
I pulled out the torn map. “You left this behind.”
Baruch leaned over the map and scrutinized it. “I didn’t know I didn’t have it until I went to pull it out of my knapsack. I thought I could find the orchard anyway. Am I in the wrong place?”
“You’ve been duped, Baruch. There’s no apple orchard here. It was a joke.”
“A joke?”
The sun’s heat had drained me physically and emotionally. Perspiration dripped on the map.
“I need to get in the shade before I faint.” We edged over to some nearby boulders, and I collapsed in a patch of shade. Baruch, subdued, trailed behind me. I pulled out the map again and showed him where we were. Assassin had put a large “X” over the non-existent apple orchard.
“There are no apples here. Assassin lied to you. He wanted to get rid of you so you wouldn’t get all of the beautiful jennies.”
“What jennies?” Baruch brayed loudly, stomping the hard ground with his hind legs. He then flipped the map out of my hands with his nose and smashed it into the gravel.
“I was afraid if I didn’t come after you, I’d never see you again. You and your apples. We’ve got to get your knapsack fixed, too, where it’s torn.”
Baruch snorted. “He wanted to be my friend.”
“Assassin is a cruel donkey. His owner is—never mind what he is.”
We sat resting for a few minutes as reality set in. Thinking about the long walk back exhausted me before we even started. “We need to go.”
Baruch’s ears drooped beside his crestfallen face. “I miss the garden.”
As my eyes wandered across the valley, rushing waters split the silence. My heart pounded. A similar sound chased us before—when we left the garden. I scanned the horizon. Flash flooding in the desert was dangerous. The water would cascade down the mountains, overflow the wadis, and drown anything in its path.
Baruch nodded towards the mountain. “Look.”
Gushing waters heaved down the slopes followed by a bolt of lightning. The flashing streak tore the desert into two dimensions, one sense of reality draped over the other. The gigantic boom echoed, shaking my sense of safety, reverberating off the mountains and fading into the valley.
The new dimension opened up as the first one pulled back, like curtains at a play, revealing something hidden within the desert. What was real? Were there two dimensions existing side by side? The fabric of my world seemed torn, like the cloth of Baruch’s knapsack.
Chapter Eighteen
THREE TEMPTATIONS